I was fine, but now i’m not

My mom took my dog for a sleepover on Sunday evening, so Monday morning was not spent trying to get her out of bed to go outside to the bathroom.  Instead, I overslept (a whole hour) when truly I had intended to get up early and do a SHRED workout.  Blah.  Mornings. 

The workday went smoothly enough, no real emergencies or tight timelines.  I had some running around to do after work – pick up this, get that, pay this bill – so by the time I got home my mom was already there with the dog, emptying out my flower gardens.  Seriously, tearing every last shred of green right out.  I asked her why would she do that and she said she was doing me a favour, that it had to be cleaned out in order for it to grow properly next spring.  I asked what ‘proper’ growing meant to her – did she mean ‘less work’ next spring if she uprooted all the plants in the flower bed?  Would I simply have to run the cultivator over it every two months and glory be, there was a fine patch of dirt to behold?  She told me to be grateful she was helping out, so I thought that was a good idea and shut myself up.

After dropping my work bag onto the floor of the kitchen (I totally need to work on picking up after myself), I quickly ran to the computer to send a message to my running buddy (Aside: my cellphone hasn’t been working) only to find the computer being wonky with me. It took some work, but I finally managed to send the message off and get myself changed and ready for running.  Almost a full hour later and I was finally on my way to the running path. 

I decided to bring the dog with me so that she would possibly exert some energy and sleep through most of the night.  I should have known that unless she is off-leash and able to prance around wherever she pleases, she doesn’t get a great workout in.  It was still nice to have her around to talk to though, so I think i’ll give it another try.

I started off slowly yesterday because I was scared that I might still be sick.  It felt wonderful pounding along the gravel road and before I knew it, I was already halfway done.  It was a good run.  1.75 miles in 27 minutes, including warm up and cool down.

Had dinner afterwards, took a bath, went to bed.  Love it. 

This morning woke up with coughing fits to end all coughing fits, crappy headache, watery eyes.  Well.  Isn’t that great.

SHRED workout today after work, then into the pj’s with a hot cup of tea and a good book.

My mind has shut itself off

Oh, hey.

So, I was reading my entry from the other day and noticed at the end I said I would be running another 5k this past weekend. Nah. Didn’t happen. Someone got me sick.

I actually haven’t run since I updated last.  Instead I spent most of my waking time wishing I were sleeping and a lot of my sleeping time being woken up by the inability to breathe through my nose.  It wasn’t totally nightmarish; I caught up on a lot of television shows i’d been wanting to watch.  I even managed to wash the dishes in the sink once.  That didn’t include the dishes on the table and in the living room, but that’s not the point.

If I could think straight, I would have spent my weekend much more wisely – it was gorgeous outside, there were plenty of things to do in the garden and in the garage.  Such is life.

I don’t know about today.  I’m having trouble keeping my balance when I walk.

Single…& Looking

I was at a 50th Anniversary this weekend, celebrating the marriage of two incredibly special and kind people who are the parents of a very good friend of mine.  It was great fun, playing games all afternoon then stuffing ourselves with ham and freshly baked buns and salad-to-end-all-salad.  I was so tired and so full at the end of it that I hardly made it home and when I did, I slumped on the couch for 45 minutes waiting for enough energy to get myself upstairs to the bed.  Oh, how I adore days like these.  I love the dopey laziness of it, the sick full feeling I get from eating far too many little macaroni squishies, the pure and total exhaustion from a full day out in the sun running and playing and laughing and enjoying life.

But I digress.  The story is this:

At the beginning of the reception, all the guests were asked to fill out a sticker which would then be ‘stuck’ to their jackets, sweaters, jeans, belts, etc.  They were to print their name and the number of years they’ve been married or in a committed relationship.  Well.  Seeing as I am not married nor am I in a committed relationship, I simply wrote my first name in big capital letters and stuck it to the front of my sweater.  It fell off.  I stuck it on again.  It fell off again.  I was starting to wonder if this was some sort of sick, twisted game God was playing on me when out of the blue someone said “why don’t you put ‘single'” on your sticker?  Hmmn.  I am at an anniversary with a family I am not blood-related to.  That’s not a bad idea, batman.

So I wrote “single… & looking”.  Such a bad idea, people.

I stuck the thing to my sweater.  Again, it fell off.  By this time, it was a running joke.  Haha.  Stick it on her sweater, it’ll fall off – yeah, really, it’s hilarious.  So, without having to say but saying it anyways, there was quite the circle of fans around me by the time I managed to stick the silly sticker to the side of my… plastic picnic cup.  Yes, I carried around a plastic picnic cup with my drink of choice.  Come outta that tangent!  I stuck it to the cup.  Maybe 20 people gathered around to watch me do this.  For the next two hours, a short, pimpled, 18 year old BOY was stuck to my hip like glue.  He was so desperately trying to amuse and impress me I almost wanted to throw up all over the place.  I tried to make reference to my age at least half a dozen times, but he didn’t seem to care.  At the end of this two hour period, I had reached my limit of tolerating teenage boys and ran over to a great big tree and hid under its branches for about half an hour.  That worked.

That’s also when I got the idea that our slo-pitch team should dress in camoflage next season.

7 Hour Goal

I’ve been having some problems with insomnia lately.  Well, I don’t know that it’s actually insomnia.  Sometimes it takes me hours to fall asleep.  Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night (between 2:30 and 3am) and can’t get back to sleep.  Sometimes when I wake up it’s because i’ve an upset stomach, sometimes there is no reason that I can find.  It’s sort of aggravating, and it absolutely FORCES me to eat chocolate every afternoon in order to stay awake.  FORCES me, I tell you.

So anyways, I have a 7 hour goal for each night.  This is how much rest I FOR SURE need in order to feel rested during the day.  No half-assed, disturbed sleep either.  It’s gotta be deep, REM-style sleep.  Need my beauty rest.

Last week was horrible.  I was averaging 4 to5 hours of sleep each night.  When Friday finally rolled around, I was so tired, dudes.  SO tired.  I slept in on Saturday morning until 9:30am, which I know I should not do but couldn’t find the determination to resist.  So far since then i’ve had two good nights with the aforementioned 7 hours of sleep, and one bad one.  It’s amazing how different I feel during the day, how much more energy I have.  Sleep deprivation is a huge motivation-buster.

Soon (maybe starting next week) I am going to try a few different things before going to sleep each night, like having a warm bath, or reading for 10 minutes.  I am hoping that once this becomes a routine, my body and mind will be able to relate these activities to bedtime and begin to unwind all on its’ own.  I am on a mission, people.

Wow! busy week.  Ball, ball meeting, ball, bbq, ball, birthday supper.  Didja get all that?!  My God, i’ll probably be sleeping in again on Saturday.  Best laid plans, and all that.

No longer a jogging blog

There.  I said it.  I’m consumed with guilt, but it’s done and there ain’t no going back now.

My mini-vaca was awesome.  It was great to see my brother and his family once again – we see each other so rarely that it’s almost like meeting and getting to know someone new each time we’re together again.  We did some camping and I realized that I really hate bugs.  We went to the ocean and I realized I like lakes.  All 5 of us slept together in a camper for 4 nights, and I realized I don’t want to know anyone THAT well.  Attended a folk festival and realized I really love strange music!  So yeah.  Good times!

Now that i’m back in the daily routine, it’s time to get involved with the chores again.  I tried mowing the lawn, but I ran out of gas halfway through so… I decided to wash the dishes instead.  I washed two loads of dishes before I got bored with that, so loaded the laundry into the washer.  Forgot it there for two days and had to re-wash it.  It’s been a wierd few days, to say the least.  So now, half the grass is cut, dirty dishes are still piled in the sink, and the laundry needs to be thrown into the dryer.  I do this to myself for the fun of it, no?

The vacation made me want to not live where I live.  It made me want to be closer to my brother and his family, and my uncle and his family.  There are so many opportunities as compared to where I am living.  And I find it funny that I say “where I am living”, when I truly don’t believe that I am.  Yes, I have things to do, places to go, and people to see.  It just sort of feels… empty.  I have some sorting out of priorities to do.  Perhaps a change is in order.  Perhaps not.  I’m also incapable of making large decisions on my own.

To take my mind off of that, i’ve decided to partake in an upcoming folk festival in the nearest city.  It just so happens that after my shocking ‘love of folk music’ revelation, I surveyed the lists of folk festivals near me for about two hours online.  I found one in a city not far from here, in only a week and a half’s time.  Great!  Happy!  Joy!  I hope it meets my expectations.

If not, blunder the folk music world, my friends.  Blunder it.